Normal State of Chaos
by bonusvampirus
Summary: Anwen and Stormageddon work for Torchwood when they are older...


Title: Normal State of Chaos  
Summary: Anwen Williams reflects on her life as a Torchwood operative.  
Rating: M for sexual references  
Word Count: 1013  
Other Chapters: No.  
Disclaimer:The British Broadcasting Corporation owns Torchwood and all related characters, settings, and trademarks. I do not profit in any way from this material. The British Broadcasting Corporation owns Doctor Who and all related trademarks. I do not in any way profit from the use of these trademarks.  
Pairings: Anwen Williams/Stormageddon  
Contains: trans headcanon, future!fic, next-gen fic, All-Grown-Up fic, post-Miracle Day  
Warnings: mentions of character death

* * *

They had these moments, sometimes. Rare, quiet moments when they could lie there in bed, hot sheets wrapped around their sweaty limbs in ways they were never meant to be wrapped as they tried to feel both modest and cool. Why did they want to be _modest_, though? They'd just had sex. Rough sex. Anwen's cunt was sore and there was a perfect impression of her teeth on Storm's neck that still hadn't quite faded. Jack would laugh at their embarrassment.

Fuck Jack, though. No one was more likely to ruin this moment than Jack Harkness. He had a knack for calling right when Anwen and Storm were_finally_ feeling calm. It wasn't really his fault, though, Anwen supposed. If Jack could control when hostile alien threats turned up in Wales, they'd at least never work weekends.

They could hear the rain on the window, slow enough to be soothing. And the smell... Anwen had always loved the smell of rain. She had a lot of happy childhood memories outside in the rain, playing with her father while he mum was off saving the world.

Anwen's father was still upset about her joining Torchwood, more than eighteen months later. He'd never wanted that, and he claimed that Anwen's mum had never wanted that either. He was probably right about that, but it didn't really matter. No one had less right to judge Anwen for not being able to stay away from Torchwood than Anwen's mum did.

Gwen's mother... Anwen had never blamed Jack, or Torchwood, but Anwen's father had. She'd been lost in the line of duty, and frankly, Anwen didn't think her mother would have ever wanted to go any other way. She'd gone into work every single day knowing the risks. She'd even made Anwen and her father pick up some self-defense training just in case one of the many enemies Torchwood had decided to pay Anwen's mother a visit at home. They needed it, a few times, too. Anwen had a feeling that her mother would understand. For some people, it was impossible to walk away from Torchwood once they'd experienced the action first-hand. Nothing was worth that. Anwen's father could walk away, but Anwen couldn't.

Anwen had gone off to uni—St. Andrews, because she'd thought that getting out of Wales was her only shot at really getting out of Torchwood—and she'd studied Physics, which could have led to a normal life with a normal job, but instead it had led to her helping Jack defeat a few alien invasions after the death of their old tech enby, and never returning to school after Christmas of her second year.

Storm had never gone to uni. She hadn't even gotten her A-levels. She'd run off with the Doctor and when she finally decided to settle down and find a job, she'd gotten a call from Buckingham Palace asking if she'd be interested in joining Torchwood. Jack hadn't been keen on it, initially. He was happy to take the royal family's money, but he didn't like them interfering in Torchwood business. He'd changed his tone quickly enough when 'Alfie Owens' turned out to be a beautiful young woman and a life-long friend of the Gallifreyan for whom Jack's love made all of Jack's other recent relationships look like one-night stands. Storm. Jack would have called her 'Dark Mistress of All' too, if the Doctor had told him too, but they'd settled for just "Storm." Just as well. _Anwen_ would never have called her 'Dark Mistress of All.' Not outside of the bedroom, anyway.

Jack had tried, in that casual 'I'm only joking, unless you're interested,' way that he usually did. Anwen hadn't tried, not because she wasn't interested but because she was bollocks at making the first move. Generally, nothing short of a signed confession, a screenshot of their dinner reservations, and a naughty photo convinced Anwen that a girl was actually into her. Anwen was confident of her ability to shoot out a squirrel's eye from the other end of a rugby field. She was confident of her ability to outrun every other member of the team and most of the humanoid life-forms they had to chase. She was confident of her ability to fix technology that some of her old professors had never heard of. She was _not_confident of her ability to get a girl's attention.

Storm was _all_ confidence, though. For some reason, she'd decided that she liked Anwen, and the written confession, the dinner reservations, and the naughty pictures had all arrived, in that order and not all necessarily all at the same time. Jack wasn't the jealous or bitter sort, so he'd been supportive of their union, just as Anwen knew that he would be.

Well, he'd been _emotionally_ supportive, anyway, as their friend. As their boss...

There was a buzzing noise from the floor somewhere as Anwen's mobile received a call.

Storm moaned. "No," she said. "No alien invasions on Sundays."

"That's what Jack's been saying for decades. They never seem to listen."

"Bloody Torchwood," Storm said.

"Like things were better with the Doctor," Anwen said with a smile as she climbed out of bed and began to fish her mobile out of her pocket.

"Hey, with the Doctor, I could go almost a week with nothing but concerts and lazy days on the beach. We were out to have fun. The crash-course in saving the world that I got along the way was sort of an accident."

Anwen accepted the call. At least it wasn't an alien invasion. A dozen or so weevils were up from the sewers and causing a great deal of trouble on St. Mary's Street. It wouldn't be _too_ difficult to deal with them, as long as Jack brought plenty of anti-weevil spray.

Anwen watched as Storm got dressed, and she sighed. Torchwood. Her normal state of chaos Unpredictable, dangerous, frustrating, and generally thankless because the town still seemed to blame _them_ for the fact that aliens kept turning up, but Anwen wouldn't trade it for the world.


End file.
